Mordorns Legacy: The Fifth House
by KWR500
Summary: During the summer before Harry Potter is due to start Hogwarts, strange things happen. It seems that there weren't four founders after all.
1. Mordorns Legacy

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to their respective copywrite holders and I make no claim upon anything other than my own original ideas.

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**Chapter One**

Mordorns Legacy

Albus Dumbledore sank back in his seat, massaging his temples. Before him sat the four heads of the Hogwarts houses; Professor McGonagall, head of the house of Gryffindor looking extremely worried while leafing through a copy of Hogwarts: A History, Professor Severus Snape, head of Slytherin scowling fiercely and muttering under his breath, the diminutive Professor Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw wearing an expression somewhere between a smile and a frown, and Professor Sprout, head of Hufflepuff scratching her head in confusion.

Dumbledore sighed wearily, for the past five hours they had been arguing constantly over a most perplexing situation, for since this morning instead of a neat row of four house tables, the Headmaster of the prestigious school of magic woke to find five rows of tables, for a new house had emerged from nowhere, and to add more confusion to an already puzzling situation, the Hogwarts crest now had five symbols arranged in a neat pentagram instead of four symbols in quadrants; a fierce black dragon now decorated the coat of arms of Hogwarts, not to mention that the age old book Hogwarts: A History now had an additional five chapters regarding the new house.

"It says here that the this alleged fifth founder, Merithius Mordorn, was the half-brother of Salazar himself," said McGonagall, looking at the book as if it had grown three heads.

Dumbledore sighed again, "Minerva, I do believe that's the fifth time that you have told us that particular fact-"

"-I couldn't care less if he was the brother of Merlin himself, you've read the book yourself Albus, that man was mad. He was beyond dark, even Salazar himself disagreed with his principles!" said Snape slamming his fist on the table.

"It also says that he was a wrymtongue, he could communicate with dragons! I never thought such a thing was possible, dragons cannot be tamed, the very fact that his closest confidant was a black dragon lays testament to his ferocity," said Professor McGonagall, frowning.

Dumbledore put up his hand to silence Snape who was about to launch into another angry tirade, "Please Severus, Minerva, you both know that this is powerful ancient magic at work. I cannot do anything to stop this occurrence; we just have to accept the fact."

Proffessor Flitwick frowned thoughtfully, "Albus, do you think it's a coincidence that this new house appears the same year Harry Potter is to start Hogwarts,"

"Why yes, I have given that some thought but as I said before; we just have to wait and see," replied Dumbledore absently, but inside his head the gears were in motion; _Could it be a coincidence, or is it just another occurrence in the grand scheme of things._

"But for now we have more pressing concerns, Severus have you managed to find a way into the new castle tower,"

"No Headmaster, I cannot even recognise the type of magic used to seal the entrances, but obviously it is the Lair of Mordorn and if my guess is correct it can only be opened by someone sorted into Mordorn," replied Snape scowling.

"Hmm… yes the sorting hat had a lot to say about Merithius Mordorn, it appears he was a highly secretive man, apparently even more so than Salazar Slytherin. But I wonder, who will be the head of the new house," said Dumbledore looking significantly at the still scowling Professor.

"Don't even think about it Headmaster, I'm not babysitting the filthy spawn of a power hungry madman, I'm a busy man as it is," replied Snape, glaring at the old Headmaster.

"How about we four Heads all take turns in presiding over the house, one each term," said Professor Sprout.

"A capital idea," squeaked Professor Flitwick, jumping off his seat.

"That would be the most feasible option," said Professor McGonagall.

"Does anyone have any objections to that," said Professor Dumbledore looking at Professor Snape.

Professor Snape, who looked like he was about to object, instead nodded his head and rose out of his seat, "If you'll excuse me Headmaster, I have classes to plan for."

The other Professors all took their leave and left the Headmaster to his silent contemplation, Fawks, the Headmasters beautiful red phoenix flew over and crooned softly in the Headmasters ear. Professor Dumbledore chuckled, "Yes Fawks, this is going to be an interesting year indeed."


	2. Surprise at the Dursleys

A/N: New chapter. I forgot about this story long ago, but I just got an email from telling me someone named dragonelfe just subscribed to the story. Well, since I have an audience, it'd be a shame to keep them waiting another four years wouldn't it? Anyway, I've decided to finish what I started and continue this story. For my own enjoyment if anything else.

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to their respective copywrite holders and I make no claim upon anything other than my own original ideas.

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**Chapter Two**

Mr. Dursley was having a fine day. He had just recieved his long awaited promotion at Grunnings, with a 15% pay rise, and recieved dispensation to hire his very own secretary. Immediately after he'd recieved the news that morning, he'd phoned Petunia who was taking Dudley shopping for his school things. She'd been delighted; the only other husband on Privet Drive with his own secretary was Mr. Lewis of Number Seven. His wife, Fiona Lewis (who Petunia secretely despised and enjoyed spying on), had never let her forget the fact during their weekly get togethers. And the pay rise! Why, they'd be able to finally afford that summer house in Majorca they'd been eyeing. The Lewis' certainly didn't have a summer house in Majorca.

The promotion, along with Petunia's happy response over the phone put Vernon in such a good mood that he didn't even yell at Parks when that simpleton didn't ready the quarterly accounts report in time for his big meeting with management. Parks did eventually arrive with the report just as Vernon was about to enter the boardroom. "Ah, thank you Parks, a little earlier next time, eh?" he'd said magnanimously, leaving a confused and relieved Parks behind.

Later that afternoon, making his way slowly through the London traffic, Vernon was idly wondering how he'd celebrate his promotion. He wa ruminating over a new set of golf clubs when the radio briefly pulled him out of his thoughts.

"So Richard, what's your opinion on the mass UFO sightings in Scotland?" said the amused sounding radio host.

"UFO's? In Scotland? Someone must've spiked their water supply," said Richard.

The first presenter laughed, "Certainly seems like it, eh? Some are even saying they saw a flying dragon!"

"A dragon? They've probably been watching too much cartoons. I've never heard of anything more ridiculous! What next? Leprechauns in Ireland?"

Vernon's eyes narrowed as the radio presenters laughed. As he did whenever he heard something strange and unnatural, his thoughts turned to the boy and _his lot_. The one who'd darkened their doorstep ten years ago, bringing all that freakishness to their perfectly respectable home. The gall of those people, to expect them to raise that little freak in their own house alongside their little Dudley. Who knows how the boys abnormality would affect Dudley's development? Vernon was not a religious man, but he thanked all the higher powers everyday that Petunia had agreed with him and refused to take in the boy. Vernon had happily complied with her wishes and dumped the boy in an orphanage the very morning he'd showed up on their doorstep.

He shook his head to banish such thoughts. No need to dwell on the past, not with things looking so well for him and his family. Dudley was due to start Smeltings, Vernon's old alma mater, that September. Vernon couldn't be more proud than when he first saw Dudley in his Smeltings uniform. The boy was cut from the very same cloth as his old man, and would gow up to be a fine, upstanding gentleman. Vernon was even thinking of enrolling Dudley in boxing lessons. He had been a keen boxer himself in his younger years, and thought it a manly, character building activity. Yes, Dudley would be a fine boxer. He had the sturdy physique of his father; all he needed was a little training and he'd be dominating the ring in no time.

As Vernon parked his car in the driveway he amused himself by trying to guess how Petunia would reward him for his promotion. Petunia always loved to celebrate Vernons workplace acheivements and Vernon was sure that she'd have something special planned for tonight. As he fumbled for his keys, Vernon tried to recall the last time he'd opened front door himself. Petunia usually greeted him at the door as soon as she heard his car in the driveway. He also noticed that all the curtains were drawn despite the fact that it was a lovely day outside. He dismissed these thoughts as he went inside, "Petunia, I'm ho – why are all the lights turned off? Pet?"

In the kitchen he found an ashen faced Petunia. There was an unopened bottle of champagne sitting in a bowl of ice by the counter, next to two wine glasses and a purple gift-wrapped present. Vernon paused by the doorway when Petunia looked up at him.

"Pet, what's wrong?" He noticed that she was clutching a thick looking envelope made of some type of parchment in her hand.

"V-vernon."

"Where's Dudley?"

"I sent him to the Polkisses for the afternoon."

"Why? Pet, what's going on?"

Petunia's made a face. "Vernon, it's _them,_" she spat, waving the letter.

A feeling of dread started to wash over him.

"Who?"

"Who do you think, Vernon? It's them. The freaks."

Vernon dropped his suitcase, "What do they want?" he asked, almost yelling.

"They think we have him ... they think that the boy still lives here," she shoved the parchment in Vernons hands. Vernon immediately dropped the letter as if burned. He quickly bent down and picked it up again. On the front, in green spidery script it said:

_Harry Potter_

_St. Mary's Orphanage_

_4 Privet Drive Surrey, Little Whinging_

"I've read the letter, Vernon. They're coming to pick him up next week. They're coming to take him to that freak school." Petunia was breathing heavily. Vernon walked up to her and embraced her, trying to calm her down while simultaneously trying to stop himself from panicking.

"Do they even know he isn't here?" he asked.

"The letter has the name of the orphanage we sent him to on it, but it's addressed to us," she said.

Vernon thought about it. The freaks must have an automated process for sending out letters, since any person would surely notice that there was no orphanage at No. 4. Unfortunately that also meant that they'd be here on Tuesday, demanding to see the boy. Threatening his family with their freakishness. Vernon thought back to that November morning ten years ago. He still remembered that letter that Dumbledorf freak had left with the boy; while not overtly threatening, there was a clear subtext. _This boy is special to us. Take care of him ... or else._ Vernon still occasionally had nightmares of an army of freaks descending on his doorstep. Just the thought of it made Vernons blood boil. How dare they? How dare they come into his house and demand things of him and his family that they had no right demanding? After all thsese years, why couldn't they leave his family alone? Why couldn't they raise that freak themselves, instead of polluting their perfectly normal lives with their abnormality? Vernon made up his mind. He walked over to the kitchen counter and uncorked the Champaigne bottle, pouring a generous amount into one of the glasses.

"Petunia, go pick up Dudley from the Polkisses. I'll start packing."


End file.
